Don Luis ceased speaking. There were no words necessary between the two men. One had done the other the greatest services which a man has it in his power to render; and the other knew that these were services for which no thanks are adequate. And he also knew that he would never have an opportunity to prove his gratitude. Don Luis was in a manner above those proofs, owing to the mere fact that they were impossible. There was no service to be rendered to a man like him, disposing of his resources and performing miracles with the same ease with which we perform the trivial actions of everyday life. Patrice once again pressed his hand warmly, without a word. Don Luis accepted the homage of this silent emotion and said: "If ever people talk of Arsène Lupin before you, captain, say a good word for him, won't you? He deserves it." And he added, with a laugh, "It's funny, but, as I get on in life, I find myself caring about my reputation. The devil was old, the devil a monk would be!" He pricked up his ears and, after a moment, said: "Captain, it is time for us to part. Present my respects to Little Mother Coralie. I shall not have known her, so to speak, and she will not know me. It is better so. Good-by, captain." "Then we are taking leave of each other?" "Yes, I hear M. Masseron. Go to him, will you, and have the kindness to bring him here?" Patrice hesitated. Why was Don Luis sending him to meet M. Masseron? Was it so that he, Patrice, might intervene in his favor? The idea appealed to him; and he ran up the companion-way. Then a thing happened which Patrice was destined never to understand, something very quick and quite inexplicable. It was as though a long and gloomy adventure were to finish suddenly with melodramatic unexpectedness. Patrice met M. Masseron on the deck of the barge. "Is your friend here?" asked the magistrate. "Yes. But one word first: you don't mean to . . . ?" "Have no fear. We shall do him no harm, on the contrary." The answer was so definite that the officer could find nothing more to say. M. Masseron went down first, with Patrice following him. "Hullo!" said Patrice. "I left the cabin-door open!" He pushed the door. It opened. But Don Luis was no longer in the cabin. Immediate enquiries showed that no one had seen him go, neither the men remaining on the wharf nor those who had already crossed the gangway. "When you have time to examine this barge thoroughly," said Patrice, "I've no doubt you will find it pretty nicely faked." "So your friend has probably escaped through some trap-door and swum away?" asked M. Masseron, who seemed greatly annoyed. "I expect so," said Patrice, laughing. "Unless he's gone off on a submarine!" "A submarine in the Seine?" "Why not? I don't believe that there's any limit to my friend's resourcefulness and determination."